


Just One Kiss [Fic and Art]

by MaesterChill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fanart, Kissing, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Post-Hogwarts, Tattoos, semi-naked men, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 12:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaesterChill/pseuds/MaesterChill
Summary: Harry is incapable of stopping at one kiss, and his shrewd Slytherin knows it.





	Just One Kiss [Fic and Art]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timothysboxers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timothysboxers/gifts).

> This work was created a while ago as a birthday gift for my shrewd Slytherin pal Derek (aka [timothysboxers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timothysboxers/)). Just posting it now though, four months after the fact. I hope it brings you a smile, mate. 💚
> 
> Thank you to the noble and most ancient squad of squee-ers for the encouragement and art critique, and to [buildyourwalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buildyourwalls/) and [roomnumber156](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roomnumber156/) for the alpha/beta help.

**Morning**

“Mmpf, gerroff, gonna be late for work.”

“Just _one _kiss,” Draco whined as Harry rolled away from him.

“One kiss? You _know_ I can _never _bloody well stop at one kiss.” Harry got up out of bed with a stretch and a yawn.

“Yes, I had noticed.” Draco smiled, pushed aside the blanket and stretched his arms out before sitting up. “Oh come on. Let's see how strong-minded the great Harry Potter really is. It’s a simple matter of determination and willpower. Let's call it a test. Just. One. Kiss.”

“You and I both know that's an extremely bad idea.”

“My good ideas are often _disguised _as bad ideas. Just like this one. You’ll see.”

Harry glared at Draco for a second, then relented, pulling him in for a chaste kiss on the forehead. 

“Oh no, that won't do. A _proper_ kiss or it doesn’t count.”

Harry pulled their bodies flush and kissed Draco. A proper kiss this time. 

Draco sighed into Harry’s mouth as their tattoos began to tingle and light up in a way that was now soothingly familiar, yet still energising and reassuring, even after nine years. 

Draco’s tattoo was a lightning bolt on his arm that matched Harry’s scar and Harry had the Draco constellation on his chest. They’d had them done at Luna’s magical tattoo shop before they got married: a gift from her. “They’re Love Tattoos!” she’d informed them brightly. “As long as they continue to tingle you will know the love you share is true and pure... and they’ll ward off Wrackspurts too!”

After several moments of enjoying Harry’s lips on his, Draco pulled away, face flushed. “Alright, you can go now,” he chimed, a little too cheerfully.

“Fuck. No, I can’t.” Harry was breathing hard. “I'm weak. So fucking weak. For you.” 

“And you accuse_ me _of being the dramatic one?”

Harry grabbed the back of Draco’s neck and hauled him in for another kiss. 

“Ah-ah-ah,” Draco sang, wagging a finger. “_Just one kiss!_ You’ll be late for work.”

“One fucking kiss. I’ve told you before, it’s a slippery slope! Come on, you know I’m doomed.” 

Draco slackened in Harry’s arms and cupped Harry’s cheeks before kissing him once more. Harry slid his fingers under the waistband of Draco's pyjamas, tracing the dip between the swell of his his arse cheeks, caressing the soft peach fuzz.

“Speaking of slippery—”

The bottle of lube flew into Harry’s outstretched hand while he yanked Draco’s pyjamas down with the other hand.

Draco laughed as his dick—which was getting larger by the second—sprang free. “I honestly don't know how you catch_ any _criminals. You're utterly atrocious at resisting temptation.”

* * *

Harry checked the time and cursed loudly. 

He cursed again as he hurriedly pulled on his Auror uniform. 

“Right, how do I look?”

“As ever, words can’t possibly describe how beautiful you look, Harry—”

Harry’s face lit up and his eyes shimmered. His tattoo began to tingle all over again. “Aaaw—” he began.

“—but numbers can. It’s a four out of ten from me.” Draco looked him up and down. “You’re completely dishevelled, your hair is all over the place, and those trousers need an ironing charm.”

“You fucker. You just said I looked beautiful.”

“I’m capricious like that,” Draco smirked, grabbing his wand off the dresser and pretending to file his nails with it. 

Harry huffed, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to flatten it. “Well, then make yourself useful and cast a_ Collevo _on these trousers sharpish before I get a Howler from Robards for being late.”

**Noon**

“Wasn't expecting you home for lunch.”

“I’m not here for lunch,” Harry frowned, “I’m here for— Well, I want to give that challenge another go. I've been thinking about it non-stop and it's been pissing me off.”

“Been stewing about that all morning, have you?” Draco smirked. “It _ was _ pretty memorable, I'll admit. I particularly liked that thing you did with your thumb and your tongue at the same time. You can_ definitely _try that again.”

Harry stared at Draco, brow furrowed. 

“Want a cup of tea to go with that frown on your face?” Draco pursed his lips.

“Is that my Gryffindor t-shirt?” Harry asked, pointing at the maroon t-shirt Draco had on, emblazoned with the rampant lion.

“No!” Draco paused and smiled at Harry through his eyelashes. “Maybe… Yes.”

“Take it off.” 

“It looks_ better _on me.”

“I heartily agree,” said Harry, “but it'll still have to come off... On principle.”

“Are you staying for lunch?” Draco asked, holding his arms up as Harry pulled the offending t-shirt up over his head. “I’ve got tomato and basil soup and some gorgeous Pugliese bread from Waitrose.”

“Nope. One kiss. Then I'm Apparating the hell out of here. I actually have a lunch meeting with Goldstein in ten minutes.”

“Ugh, that tosser.” Draco hopped up on the worktop, ready for his kiss.

“Right, I can do this,” muttered Harry to himself, leaning in.

The kiss stretched on for a soft, wet minute and Draco shivered, his tattoo tingling and shining. Harry sucked on Draco’s bottom lip as he began to pull down Draco’s joggers.

“Oi, what’s this? You’re supposed—”

“If you_ don’t _want a blow job, speak up now. Otherwise, shut it.”

Draco went uncharacteristically quiet. 

Harry smirked as he pulled Draco’s grey joggers down all the way and dropped to his hunkers. 

“I’ll owl Goldstein an apology later,” muttered Harry, before wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue.

* * *

“Failed again, Harry,” Draco drawled. “You're hopeless.”

“Not my fault you walk around the house topless in those damnable joggers. You don't play fair.”

“I wasn't topless until_ you _made me topless! You'll never make Head Auror with such poor recall skills.”

“You're right. I won't... And I'll have to quit the Ministry and stay home all day in_ my _t-shirt and joggers and we'll eat ice cream together and make love and watch old musicals and sing badly and kiss and... did I say eat ice cream?”

“As delightful as that sounds,” Draco laughed, “_ you've _got to get back. Goldstein will be fuming—not that_ that _bothers me especially—but you_ were _late this morning… and anyway, I've got to finish my column.”

“And here I thought_ I'd _just sorted your column out_ for you_. Licked it right into shape, in fact.” 

_"Mais quel imbecile! Vas-t-en!"_

“You do realise it's really fucking sexy when you get all narky and start ranting in another language.”

“It’s French for ‘get the fuck out of here’,” Draco hissed. “And_ please _don’t start getting horny again. Merlin knows how I put up with you—” He was beginning to walk away when Harry grasped his hand, twisting it and planting a firm kiss on the palm. 

“I love you,” Harry smiled easily.

Draco pouted, before sighing, “Just get home as soon as possible, okay?”

**Night**

“I am SO sorry, Draco. There was a problem with a case—” 

“It’s eleven o’clock! You could have bloody well owled! At least then I’d have known not to make you dinner! A perfectly good roast chicken with garlic and rosemary, _ and _ a berry and banana fruit salad… _wasted_!”

“I’m really sorry. Like_ really _sorry, you know I love roast chicken. I’ll bring the leftovers into work tomorrow.” Harry stuck his bottom lip out. “Are you... _very _cross with me?”

Draco made an annoyed noise.

“Did you just grunt at me?”

“Yes I bloody well did,” Draco retorted hotly, “and I think I’m entitled to!”

Harry held up his hands. “If you could just stop ranting at me for one second, I could show you a much more fun and productive use for that mouth of yours.”

“What? Are you planning to try that_ just one kiss _thing again?” Draco huffed. “Merlin does love a trier, I suppose.”

“Fuck no, I'm a lost cause. Particularly when I know I've got you to myself all night.”

“Correct. Just as you do every night.”

“I just… I love you more and more each day, Draco.”

Draco’s face softened and he brought his fingers up to Harry’s hair, curling them in the dark strands. “And you_ know _I love you too, Harry.”

“...and, I dunno, I just_ really _want you to stick your banana in my fruit salad.”

Draco burst out laughing. “Sweet merciful Merlin. I didn’t think you could get any less romantic.” 

“How am I not romantic? I’m the most romantic person I know.”

Draco shook his head. “_How _you can say that with such sincerity... Honestly, you should be on the stage. Well come on then, you oaf. Get your clobber off.”

Harry undressed, and Draco tutted his disapproval as clothes were carelessly flung over the back of a chair. Nevertheless, he strode forward and kissed Harry hard. 

Their body art tingled and shimmered with pure, wholesome love, and all was forgiven. 

Then Draco pushed Harry onto the bed and set to work on one of his favourite tasks: removing Harry’s pants.

* * *

Harry shuffled around as he got himself comfy under the quilt. “So, did you get all your salacious gossip written?”

“Yes, I completed my_ Affairs Of Note _column for the week, thank you for asking. Now if you could quieten down, I need some restorative sleep after coming so spectacularly three times in one day.” 

Draco tugged on the blanket as Harry chuckled, “Love you too.”

Draco pulled sharply on the quilt again. 

“Salazar! The blanket is supposed to be a _shared _item. You cannot just wrap yourself like a burrito and leave me to freeze to death.”

“Come spoon me then, I’ll warm you right—” Harry suddenly jerked and yelped, “Helga’s hairnet, Draco! Touch me with those ice-cold feet one more time, and I swear I’ll banish you from this bed! My wand is right there.”

“You can’t banish me! You_ need _me. Who’d_ Tergeo _your drool as you snore if I wasn’t around?”

“Now who’s the romantic one?” Harry laughed. He brushed away a lock of hair that was dangling in Draco’s eyes. “Merlin, we really do act like an old married couple sometimes.” 

“That’s because we_ are _an old married couple…”

“Less of the old, thanks, mate,” Harry rubbed his hands together, “Righto, let's see about warming up those cold tootsies.”

“Love you, Harry,” said Draco, and he shivered at the prickle of his tattoos, and at Harry’s firm touch. 

As his husband rubbed his chilly feet, Draco pondered whether he should tell Harry that he never_ ever _wanted him to stop at just one kiss.


End file.
